


mere mortals

by quags1re



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, not team Cap friendly, peter parker's epic quest to find the infinity stones before thanos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quags1re/pseuds/quags1re
Summary: Massive Endgame SpoilersAt the end of the Endgame, Peter Parker wakes up years before the invasion and decides to find the Infinity Stones before Thanos can.Endgame Fix-It





	mere mortals

**Author's Note:**

> this was created out of my massive salt
> 
> im sorry, but this fic aint cap friendly

It was over.

 

The war was over, Thanos' reign was over, five years were over, and Peter felt absolutely nothing but a wild grief that wracked his soul. 

 

 _"I love you 3000."_ Tony had said in his message, warm and loving, something the man tried to prove that he was inherently not, and yet it showed in every single piece of him that remained. 

 

 _Tony Stark has a heart_ , Peter thinks, watching the proof of it float off into the distance.

 

There was a lake that Mister Stark and his family lived next to, a lovely lake boarded by tall pines and little flowers that reached to meet sunlight in the mornings. The house, although deceptively rustic looking, had Mister Stark's signature tech built inside the inner workings of the walls and furniture and even the toys that Morgan played with. 

 

There was a picture of him with Mister Stark, holding a science award upside down, nestled above the sink. Peter couldn't help but notice that many of the other photographs in the house were covered in a thin layer of dust, and yet this one looked as if it was meticulously picked up and cleaned every so often. If he thought about it further Peter would cry again, and he couldn't cry but-

 

"He thought of you as his son, you know that, right?"

 

Peter turns away from the picture to see Pepper standing there, arms folded across her chest. "Some days when he was playing with Morgan he would say things like 'I think Peter would be a better playmate for you,' or 'Peter liked this movie too.' Morgan is now an avid watcher of the Alien series even if it gives her nightmares every time she watches it."

 

She laughs, wiping a tear away from her face. "It's nice to see you again, Peter."

 

Pepper crossed the kitchen to hug him, and if Peter collapsed into her embrace with a sob, then well, nobody would know but the two of them.

 

"Nice to see you too," he says, through a face filled with tears.

 

They hug for some time. Peter doesn't ever want to let go, but luckily, Pepper does it for the both of them.

 

She laughs, and the sound is watery. "Happy is going to take Morgan out for cheeseburgers right now. You should go with them."

 

"I can't invite myself to their hangout!" Peter exclaims, shocked. Pepper giggles, and the sound is more real this time.

 

"They'd be happy to have you. In fact, Happy asked me to invite you to go with them. I think we all need a break."

 

Peter looks at Pepper, really looks. "You're not coming?"

 

Pepper looks away from him, out through the window. The lake shimmers underneath a kind sun. "No. I need- I need some alone time."

 

Peter has never thought of Pepper as old, but in this moment, there is a bone-deep tiredness about her, something that hovers over her head and heart.

 

"Okay," says Peter. "Okay." He gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder before heading out of the house, wincing at the squeal the door makes on his way out.

 

On the porch are Morgan and Happy, who are waiting on a bench. "Took you long enough," Happy states, sliding off his seat. "Let's go eat some terrible cheeseburgers."

 

Morgan hops off the bench with a loud stomp. Her hand immediately reaches up to grab Happy's, and she squeezes. "They're not terrible," she scolds, her voice too cute to be taken seriously. "Cheeseburgers are yummy."

 

Peter can see mister Stark in her face, the arch of her brows, the frown on her lips, and the tone of her voice. He has to look away.

 

"Hey," Peter replies, waving a hand. "Give me a moment, I gotta tell my aunt May that I'm heading out with you."

 

"Okay, we'll wait in the car," Happy replies. "Hurry it up!"

 

Peter jumps down the steps of the porch, landing with a light sound. He's about to look for his aunt before he's stopped in his tracks by a voice.

 

"I know you," Morgan says, making him turn to look at her. "You're the spider boy."

 

"Spiderman," he corrects automatically, then slaps a hand over his mouth. Morgan smiles a gummy grin at him in response.

 

"Daddy has always liked spiders," she continued. "He won't let me squish 'em. 'Cause they remind him too much of someone he liked very much." 

 

And oh, that's almost too much for his already overused tear ducts. Peter had just finished crying, how many times could he cry until the pain stopped...?

 

"I'm just... gonna go find my aunt!" He says, running off. "I'll be back in a moment! You can start the car!"

 

Peter speedwalks to the lake, hoping that his aunt would just magically appear in front of him so he could have one of her world-famous hugs.

 

The world is so odd. Just a few days ago, Mister Stark had hugged him. Just a few days ago, Peter had been dead for five years. 

 

In those five years, Mister Stark had lived and had a family, and then died. The mere thought was unbearable, and he choked on a sob.

 

It wasn't fair. Why did Mister Stark, after all he'd suffered through, been the one to die? Thanos used it, he lived. The Hulk had used it, and he lived too!

 

Okay, maybe that was an unfair comparison. Thanos was some sort of all powerful alien guy and Hulk, well, was the Hulk.

 

Peter should have used the gauntlet as soon as he got it. He should have thrown it to some other strong person, one that wasn't mortal or had a family that loved them!

 

Captain Marvel could probably live a snap. So could Thor, he was a demigod. Dr. Strange could do it too, he bet!

 

Sometime after the final battle, Dr. Strange had explained to everyone that there was only one reality in which everyone lived, and that was the one where Mister Stark snapped his fingers. Out of literal millions of possibilities, it _just had_ to be the one where he had died!

 

Wasn't the selling point of mortals the fact that they carved out their own destiny? That there was infinite possibilities and futures they could thrive in? Peter may be young, but he's seen almost every single time travel or underdog, Hercules-esqe movie he could get his hands on!

 

So why?

 

Hadn't Mister Stark suffered enough?

 

Peter didn't realize he'd been walking the perimeter of the lake for a few minutes and hadn't seen a soul until his spidey senses flared to life. He whipped his head up from where he was staring at the ground to see an odd group of people.

 

The Hulk, he recognized immediately. Then metal arm dude, and then the falcon guy. Who he didn't recognize, however, was an old man sitting on a log bench looking out at the lake.

 

As if Peter didn't shove his foot in his mouth enough, he impulsively opened his mouth to say something. "Isn't this private property?"

 

The old man turned to him slowly, and a small smile appeared on his face. "Ah. The kid from Queens."

 

 _Stranger danger._  

 

"Stranger danger," Peter repeated, then mentally berated himself. "Uh, I mean. This is private property."

 

The Hulk looked away from where he was staring at the old man. "Look a little closer, Peter!"

 

Peter gave the old man a cursory glance, and then looked at the falcon man, who was cradling the shield in his arms like a precious child.

 

"Captain America?!" He exclaimed, stepping back in surprise.

 

The older man chuckled. "Not anymore."

 

"He went back in time to return the infinity stones to their proper places," Wilson added. "And then came back." If his voice shook a little on the last sentence, Peter was polite enough to not point it out.

 

Peter gulped. "Cool," he said, trying to associate this elder man with the buff, blond, blue eyed Cap he'd grown up on stories about.

 

Then it hit him.

 

"Cap," Peter said, voice trembling, "so you returned the stones, and then what?"

 

Steve Rogers chuckled and stretched in his seat. "Lived a life like Tony said I should." He relaxed his posture, slumping down in his seat. "I should have listened to him about that from the beginning."

 

Peter suddenly felt very cold. 

 

When he was younger, a news segment he'd watched had once blared the headline **Anthony Stark in Critical Condition, left for dead in Siberia by ex-Avenger teammates** or something along the lines of that. He'd pushed around the cereal in his bowl and frowned at the screen, and wondered how some people could do things like that to people they were close to. He'd seen news of Mister Stark getting kidnapped much earlier than that, and forced to make weapons for terrorists. Peter had seen Mister Stark apologize on television, head bowed in lieu of his teammates, for the damage Captain America had wrought across the globe to chase his friend. He'd seen it, when the Captain and the Widow had dumped the names of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents online, purging the Hydra and yet throwing thousands of innocents under the bus. 

 

He sees footage of a broken arc reactor and remembers trying not to cry.

 

Peter remembers seeing Mister Stark sitting alone in his office once when he came for a science project, staring at an old phone on his desk, as if it would explode in front of his eyes.

 

" _How dare you,_ " Peter hisses, hating himself for crying in front of him. He grabs the collar of Steve's shirt and yanks it so they're eye to eye. "How could you?"

 

He can hear the other three cry out in alarm, but he can't hear anything over the rage pulsing in his ears. "You lived an entire life," he glanced down at his wedding ring, "getting married, probably having a family, knowing that everyone would die and suffer?! That Mister Stark would get kidnapped? That Loki would come?! That Thanos would snap his goddamn fingers and we'd all die?!"

 

"Parker!" He hears Wilson bark. "Back off!"

 

"It's okay," Steve replies, looking infuriatingly calm, even as Peter tightens his grip on his collar. "He's just a kid. He doesn't know what he's saying."

 

Peter has never really hated anyone in his life. Sure, the bullies sucked, but Peter felt a glowing pride out of knowing they were failing chemistry and math, and that he was spiderman! And sure, he disliked that Harry Osborn kid for a day or so, who was one of the reasons he got bit by that spider, but it wasn't his fault his dad was an absolute tool. And Peter got his people saving powers, so it was a fair exchange. And his uncle, when he was still with him, made sure that he forgave the most unforgivable of events unseen.

 

But now Peter **hates** Steve Rogers. 

 

" _Fuck you,_ " Peter sobs, "you didn't deserve Mister Stark. I can't believe you! I hate you!"

 

He can feel someone pulling at his own collar, trying to tug him away. He resists, kicking and crying.

 

"How could you," Peter demands. "Why?"

 

_How could you antagonize Mister Stark like this, he doesn't say. He can't say, because he's trying not to break down. How dare you know the events of the future and not even struggle against them?!_

 

Steve looks sad, suddenly. Peter hates him even more for that, for even entertaining the idea that he was the victim, where he married and lived a long life and just fucking decided to show up at his leisure-

 

"It was the only way," the old man croaks. "You know that this was the only way the universe could be saved. This was the only universe where we win."

 

Peter laughs as he's finally being pulled away by the Hulk. He doesn't resist this time, knowing it would only result in failure. "Says who? A fucking wizard? Says who? You? You, of all people know not to fuck with time and yet here you are. Congratulations!" Peter says, clapping his hands. "You fucked with time enough to marry, I'm guessing Peggy Carter, that girl you liked from the war, I learned it in history class, and then you didn't fuck with time enough to save Mister Stark." 

 

"Calm down," urged Dr. Banner. "I know it hurts, I know it does-"

 

With a surge of anger, Peter pushed away from the Hulk's grasp. "He was my _dad!_ " Peter screams. "The only thing I had as a fatherly figure and now he's gone! And you won! You won a life! Congratulations!"

 

Peter laughs and laughs. "Did you even put the stones back? Or are they still somewhere at home, tucked into your dresser or something?"

 

Surprisingly, Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder as a show of comfort. Peter allows the contact for a brief moment, before shoving it away.

 

"Don't touch me," Peter scolds, scrubbing at his tears. "Don't come near me ever again. I hate you." He doesn't look at Steve before he turns to leave somewhere far, far away.

 

Peter stomps off, feeling not even the slightest bit satisfied at the outburst. He's angry, yes, but more than anything, he's overwhelmingly sorry, on behalf of Mister Stark.

 

Sorry that Mister Stark put up with Steve Rogers. Sorry that he ever trusted him. Sorry that he ever let him into his house. Sorry that they ever spent time together.

 

He forgets all about looking for his aunt and runs all the way to Happy's car, throwing the door open and crawling inside. He can hear some terrible children's song blasting through the speakers. Morgan waves at him when he sits down.

 

"Took you long enough," Happy began, "I was about to leave without you!" Then, he looks at Peter in the rearview mirror, and pauses.

 

"What happened?!" He snapped, looking angry. "Who did this to you?"

 

Peter feels a little proud at how Happy bristles at the thought of Peter being hurt, but his pride suddenly fades at the memory of why he's still crying. "No one important," he says, somber. "Please drive. I want a burger that will make me wish I wasn't alive."

 

.

 

The burger place is some in-the-wall place that Peter is soon informed was one of Tony's favorites. He can see why. The menu lists classic burgers such as the 'Bacon Baron' which had bacon, bacon, more bacon, bacon grease, and the promise of bacon baked into the buns, as well as the 'Onion Overlord,' who's picture was eighty percent onion rings, and then beef patties, and the buns.

 

Peter orders it. It sounds like the recipe for a greasy nightmare. Happy orders the same, and then orders Morgan a kid's cheeseburger, which she pouts at profusely.

 

"I want bacon," she whined. 

 

"No," Happy said. "You won't be able to eat it all."

 

"I can," she challenged, even as she took a bite of her cheeseburger. Her eyes widened in happiness, and she scarfed half of it down. "Yum!" She declared, finally coming up for air.

 

Peter decides to protect her at the cost of his own life.

 

He tries to tackle his own burger, and although most of it plops out of the bun and onto the plate, he gets a good mouthful. It's surprisingly good! There's some sort of sauce that actually makes all the grease go down.

 

On instinct, he picks up one of the onion rings that fell and puts it on Morgan's plate. She gasps up at him.

 

"I love you," she decides, taking a large bite of the onion ring. "You are cool."

 

Happy takes a more successful bite out of his own burger, before turning speculative eyes on Peter. "You mind finally telling me what the hell happened back there?"

 

Peter jolts. "Not in front of the impressionable child!" He says, covering Morgan's ears. She giggles.

 

Happy rolls his eyes, but smiles fondly. "It's fine. Tony accidentally said shit in front of her and now she won't stop saying it."

 

"Yeah," Morgan agrees. "Shit."

 

Peter can't help himself. He laughs, and Happy relaxes in his seat at the sound.

 

"I swear she's just a tiny version of Tony," Happy said, looking both proud and scandalized. "Now tell me."

 

"Happy," Peter begins, and is stopped by a hand.

 

"Listen kid," Happy says, taking a sip of his drink, "before you say anything, I'd like to think I know you by now. I took you places around the world. I listened to your vlogs in the car. I've heard you sing in the shower in hotels through terrible thin walls. It's alright if you say you don't want to tell me, I get it. Just don't lie to me, okay kid?"

 

Peter feels that he's been surrounded by incredible, loving people.

 

He decides to tell Happy, aware that Morgan is finishing her burger next to him, leaving out choice words and personal feelings. Peter stares down at his burger, afraid to meet his eyes.

 

After he's done, he looks back up at Happy, who looks deep in thought.

 

"Okay," Happy begins, meeting Peter's eyes. "I'm going to kill Steve."

 

"Murder is bad," Morgan adds, conversationally. "No no, don't!"

 

Peter's eyes go wide. "Yeah, listen to Morgan! Please don't!"

 

Happy looks murderous. "What a scumbag. Of course I'm not going to kill him, I'm going to beat him up and make him wish he stayed in the past."

 

"Beating up is also bad!" Morgan chimed in.

 

Peter nodded along frantically. "Yes, listen to Morgan, no beating of the ups!" He sighs. "Trust me, I want to beat him up as much as anybody, but it won't do anything!"

 

Happy looks at him. "It'll do something. It'll make us feel great."

 

For a moment, Peter is tempted to agree. He wants to agree. He wants to go to Steve's likely perfect little family and beat him up. Wants to scream, wants to cry more, wants Steve to take the stones and shove it where the sun doesn't shine, but he knows people like Steve would never, ever, see what they have done as wrong. And it was true. From the looks of it Steve had lived at least fifty years happy, not doing anything, not helping anyone, thinking that it was fine and dandy.

 

"I want to," he confesses. "I really do. But we shouldn't. Mister Stark wouldn't want us to." Happy sighs in response, but doesn't say a word to contradict him.

 

Peter is suddenly tugged on the sleeve by Morgan, who looks up at him with huge, round eyes. "Can I please have another onion ring?"

 

"It's may I, Morgs, may I please have one," Happy corrects. Morgan sticks her tongue out at him, and Peter smiles.

 

"Sure, kid. You can have another."

 

.

 

When Peter returns home, he's greeted by aunt May watching television on the couch. He opens his mouth to apologize for leaving without telling her where he was going, and forgetting to text, but she waves him off. 

 

"Pepper told me everything, it's fine." She looks at him searchingly, but Peter absolutely refuses to meet her eye. He might cry _again._

 

"I'm going to sleep," Peter murmurs. "I'm sorry, I'll talk to you in the morning." He grabs a glass of water from the kitchen and chugs it.

 

He's about to head to his room when she stops him.

 

"Peter."

 

Peter stops. "Yes?"

 

"I love you." Aunt May says. "I love you the most." He's not looking at her, but he knows she's smiling at him sadly.

 

 _Oh god, how many times would he cry today?_ "I love you too," Peter gasps out, fleeing to his room. 

 

He doesn't bother changing out of his suit before he collapses onto his bed, face down.

 

Everything was different now.

 

It had been five years since he'd been alive. His childhood hero, Captain America, was a piece of shit. Half the Avengers also sucked. Some of his neighbors and friends had lived half a decade without him. 

 

And Mister Stark was dead.

 

Peter curses Steve Rogers to hell and back. If only Peter could have used the gauntlet. If only Peter had been the one to take the stones to the past. 

 

Everything could be different. Everything would be different.

 

Would Mister Stark be here, if Peter had been the one to snap his fingers? 

 

For once in his life, his dreams don't reflect the nightmare that was his life. He dreams empty, six colored dreams.

 

.

 

Peter wakes up. 

 

He must have overslept a lot, because he remembers going to bed in the early, early evening, and the sun was suddenly so high in the sky it could have only been the afternoon.

 

Goddamnit.

 

Peter wants to go back to sleep forever. He's tired, and he doesn't want to see anybody right now. He wants so many things, for Steve to repent, for Mister Stark to be happy, but at the moment, his stomach grumbles, wanting food. 

 

With a yawn, Peter steps out of his room and into the kitchen. "Aunt May, is there... still... food...?"

 

Peter rubs at his eyes once, twice, a third time. Then he blinks, pinches himself, and then gapes when he doesn't wake up.

 

He turns to his aunt, who's lounging on the couch with a smile. With someone else there. "I think I need glasses," he begins, when he hears it.

 

"Oh, Mister Parker." Tony Stark says, nonchalantly, as if he wasn't dead and was casually sitting on his couch. "It's about time we've met. You've been getting my emails, right?"

 

Mister Stark winks at him, and Peter thinks, brokenly, _dad is here. In my living room._

_Dad is- Mister Stark is alive?!_

**Author's Note:**

> my salt is immense and diverse. 
> 
> thank u for reading! i hope you enjoyed!


End file.
